


All Down on Paper

by Lauralot



Series: Alexander Pierce should have died slower [35]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Stuffed Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 06:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot
Summary: Bucky Barnes is ready to tell his story.Now if only he could find the words.





	All Down on Paper

**2 AM and I’m still awake writing a song**  
 **If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me**  
 **Threatening the life it belongs to**  
— “Breathe (2 AM),” Anna Nalick

_I hate you._

Bucky rolls his eyes at Rumlow’s text, tapping out a reply. _Fascinating._

He sets his phone down on the desk, turning his attention back to the document open on his desktop. It’s blank save for four words: _Once upon a time_. Bucky stares, first at the text and then at the empty space past it. He’s watching the cursor at the end of the words blink in and out of existence when his phone chimes again.

_I told you to keep your copycat soldiers out of my life, Winter._

_Pretty sure you said not to bring them to rehab,_ Bucky responds. And he hadn’t. He’d brought Rumlow to the ducklings instead. _Not my problem if you weren’t specific. Besides, now you don’t have to lie about your past. What’s the problem?_

_They’re watching killer bulldozer movies,_ Rumlow retorts. _That’s the problem._

_Maybe you should introduce them to Road House_ , Bucky offers, setting his phone to silent. He feels a twinge of guilt about it, but it’s not like Rumlow got hogtied in the back of a van and forced to relocate to the duckling facility. He’d _chosen_ to go there when Bucky gave him the option. Now he just wants something to complain about.

Anyway, Bucky’s supposed to be focusing on his book.

He stares at the words onscreen until his vision blurs. _Once upon a time_. That’s not right. That’s how fairy tales start, and the Bearvengers don’t live in some kingdom far away. They’re here in Manhattan. But “once upon a time in Manhattan” sounds ridiculous, or like he’s starting the story decades ago. And he’s not.

Bucky highlights the text. He considers deleting it and starting from scratch, but then he’d be looking at a blank page, and no beginning is even worse than a bad one, probably.

Isn’t it premature to be writing down anything to begin with? The idea behind the Bearvenger stories was the same as the one behind his prosthetic initiative: raising money for charity and capitalizing on Bucky’s fame—or really, infamy—to pique interest and funds. But with his prosthetic, Pepper and Tony had already started setting up the initiative before Bucky prepared any statements or made any videos about the functioning and upkeep of his arm. This time, nothing’s been planned. Bucky hasn’t signed any publishing contracts.

Probably Pepper and Maria and everyone wanted to make sure he could write a story worth printing before they roped some poor charity into distributing his books. Probably they want to make sure he won’t type up “Bucky Bear and the HYDRA Torture Party Volume I: Fun with Your Brain and Electrical Currents.”

Bucky Bear says that’s no fun at all as Bucky sighs, rubbing at his forehead. Apparently he’s not capable of telling bear stories as an adult unless he’s using them to harass Steve. And Steve’s not home right now; he’s out helping Nat and Clint with something at Clint’s apartment building. So annoying Steve is out, unless Bucky wants to write a whole book through text messages. And it’s not like he can write the story when he’s little, either. When he’s five, he writes like a five year old: misspellings all over and scrawled, messy handwriting. Except he’s using a computer right now, so handwriting isn’t a concern.

Maybe this would be easier if he were using pencil and paper instead of a keyboard. That’s how Bucky used to write essays in school, after all. Had his family owned a typewriter? Bucky can’t remember. His hand strays to his phone. Steve would know. But Steve’s busy and it’s not like knowing his family’s typewriter status is going to make Bucky any more capable of telling a story.

He’s pretty sure at this point that he’s not at all capable of that. Making up silly games isn’t the same as writing a book.

Bucky Bear bristles because the Bearvenger missions are serious endeavors to save the world and there’s nothing silly about them. The elevator swishes open as Bucky’s trying to apologize.

“Hey,” Sam says. “I brought lunch.”

There’s a bottle of honey on the tray he’s carrying, next to a smoothie and a plate of something Bucky can’t identify from across the room. Bucky Bear’s glad that _somebody_ around here is giving him the respect a highly trained operative bear deserves.

Lunch. Did Bucky miss lunch? The clock at the bottom of the desktop reads 1:30 PM when he glances at it. Damn it. He’s been sitting here all morning, and there’s nothing but four ill-fitting words to show for it. They don’t even form a complete sentence.

“Thanks.” Bucky tries to keep the sigh out of his voice, but he’s no good at that either.

“Problems writing?” Sam asks. He sets the tray down on Bucky’s desk. Beans and rice, that’s what’s on the plate. That and a salad.

Bucky opens his mouth only to close it again. Problems writing, yes. Problems storytelling. Problems where he tries to tell an adventure just in his head only to discover that he can’t put words together in English. Or Russian. Or any other language he speaks. It’s like the entire concept of communication is conspiring to stop him from talking about bear adventures.

“How should I break up the pages?” It’s not what Bucky meant to ask, but those are the only words that he can get out.

“Come again?” Sam’s got his hands propped on the desk now, and he turns away from the computer screen to face Bucky. There’s no way he didn’t see the failed attempt at a story, and Bucky’s face burns.

“The pages,” Bucky says. “Because it’ll have illustrations, right? Should I just write a paragraph on a page and leave space or do they do that afterward? Is there a program I’m supposed to be writing this in? Are the pictures and the text even supposed to go on the same page?”

He can’t read the look in Sam’s eyes, though that doesn’t stop him from fearing that it’s pity. “I’d say write the story down before you worry about any of that.”

“I don’t think I can.” Bucky hangs his head. “It’s one thing when I’m just playing with bears. Whenever I try to write it…” He shrugs. There’s no way to put it into words, not without sounding ridiculously melodramatic. It’s not like he was working on the next great American novel in the first place.

Now even more offended, Bucky Bear insists that there’s no reason why the Bearvengers couldn’t be a great American novel.

“So let’s just play with your bears.” Sam lifts Bucky Bear off of Bucky’s lap, straightening out the collar of his coat. “You can write it all out later.”

Bucky bites his lip. His stomach is twisting, and he can’t tell if it’s just hunger. “What if I forget something we play?”

Sam shrugs. “JARVIS can remember for us.”

*

Captain Ameribear has a treasure map that Nick Furry gave to him. Bucky doesn’t have a Nick Fury bear, so that part was played by a sweater that had missed Bucky’s clothes hamper and ended up on the floor.

Now all the Bearvengers are on a treasure hunt except for Bucky Bear because he’s still osmosing his honey. Anyway, Bucky Bear wasn’t sure he wanted to play when JARVIS was watching. Not that JARVIS isn’t always watching, but usually nobody mentions it right before Bucky plays with his bears. Bucky Bear insists that he does not have stage fright; he just likes his privacy. And he can’t rush his lunch or he’ll get a bearly ache.

“That’s the last of the pirates,” Falcon Bear says. The treasure was guarded by ghost pirates, which are even more dangerous than regular pirates, both because swords go right through them and because they can make themselves look friendly instead of ghosty and pirate-y. For half of the treasure hunt the ghost pirates were searching right alongside the Bearvengers, and none of the bears had any idea they were bad. If it weren’t for Iron Bear and War Machine Bear and their anti-ghost repulsor settings, the Bearvengers wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Captain Ameribear orders War Machine Bear to the front of the group, and Iron Bear to the back. The treasure chest is just up ahead, but he’s not taking any chances that the ghost pirates could recover from the repulsors.

“The treasure room’s full of gold,” Bucky explains as the bears gape in the doorway. “It’s really deep, it goes up to everybody’s knees.” There are jewels mixed in with the gold too, and other things like crowns and scepters and timeless pottery. Hawkbear tries to backstroke through it, but he’s not doing very well. “There’s a big chest in the middle of the room. It’s as big as a bear.”

“It’s locked,” Falcon Bear points out. There’s a big, thick metal lock holding the treasure chest shut. It’s as big as a bear’s paw.

“I can break it with my shield.” Captain Ameribear lifts his arms up, getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” Bear Widow says. “What if opening the chest sets off a trap?”

“Rhodey and I can fly it out of here,” Iron Bear offers.

Captain Ameribear shakes his head. “You need to stay on watch for ghosts. Anyway, if opening the treasure chest activates a trap, picking the whole thing up definitely will. Falcon Bear. Iron Bear. War Machine Bear.”

The bears snap to attention.

“I’m going to open the chest,” Captain Ameribear says. “If anything happens when I do, grab as many bears as you can and get out of here immediately. Don’t try and take any of this stuff with you. It’s not worth our lives.”

“Got it, man,” Falcon Bear says.

“Aye aye, Captain,” says Iron Bear, who is wearing a ghost pirate eyepatch for aesthetic purposes.

Captain Ameribear sighs. But when he smashes the lock with his shield, nothing happens. There aren’t any spikes coming down from the ceiling or walls closing in or giant boulders rolling at them. There’s just a treasure chest that can open now, so Captain Ameribear opens it.

“What’s inside?” Falcon Bear asks.

“Bucky Bear,” Bucky mutters.

He can see his bear lying in the chest, eyes shut. His coat looks icy, and in the dark of the chest, Bucky Bear seems bluish all over, so cold next to all that bright shining gold around him.

“Bucky Bear?” Sam repeats.

Bucky blinks. Bucky Bear is right next to him, just now finishing up his lunch, and Captain Ameribear would never let ghost pirates or Nick Fury or anybody else take Bucky Bear away. It’s a bad story. It makes Bucky feel cold himself.

“I mean—” he begins, but then his phone beeps. It’s a reminder that today’s therapy session starts in ten minutes and Bucky needs to head to the right floor.

“I have to go,” he says, squeezing Bucky Bear to his chest as he stands up. “My doctors and—thanks for playing with me. Sorry.”

He isn’t sure what Sam says in reply as he slips into the elevator. His heart is too loud in his ears to hear anything else.

*

“I don’t think I can do it.” Bucky presses his face against his bear’s jacket. Bucky Bear is warm and soft and smells like Bucky’s detergent. Daddy added a few drops of it to the water the last time they gave Bucky Bear a bath.

“If you’re not comfortable writing a book, James, you don’t have to.” Cornelius sounds like he means it, but Bucky’s stomach churns. He doesn’t feel cold anymore. Now he’s red and shy and so annoyed that he can’t do this one easy little thing. He spends half of his time playing with his bears and he can’t even write about them.

“You can always revisit it,” Miriam adds. “Or you might feel more comfortable working from an outline? Or your daddy could draw pictures first and have you add—”

“I should be comfortable!” Bucky insists. “I play bears all the time and it’s really fun but whenever I try to write it everything just comes out bad!”

“Can you explain what you mean by bad?” Cornelius asks. “Are you worried about the quality of the stories?”

“No!” Bucky nearly snaps the word because Bucky Bear’s so offended that anyone would think the Bearvenger missions don’t have literary merit. “Maybe. I don’t know! But I just try to tell nice stories and they all come out like the games I used to play when it was all HYDRA missions! It’s all the Bearvengers finding Bucky Bear all frozen or Bucky Bear being scared of everything and not knowing what to do. Nobody would let their kid read bad stuff like that! Kids shouldn’t see that.” 

Miriam squeezes his hand, and then Bucky Bear’s foot. “But one of your goals when you first told us you’d like to tell stories was writing about trauma for children’s charities. Did you change your mind?”

“I dunno,” Bucky mutters. It had seemed like a good idea when he first thought of it. There were so many books that had helped him early on at the Tower and still do: _A Terrible Thing Happened_ and _The Princess and the Fog_ and _Meh_ and _I Said No!_ and _It’s My Body_ and _A Boy and a Bear_ and a bunch of others. But none of those books were written by a Winter Soldier. They were published by real adults. Normal adults. Some of them were even doctors. They knew how to tell bad stories without messing kids up. They weren’t messed up. “I don’t wanna hurt anybody by mistake.”

“Try to keep in mind that you wouldn’t be writing alone, James,” Cornelius says. “We’ll work with you to make sure that any story you want to tell is age appropriate without losing its impact. And the publishers and any charity that you work with will do the same.”

Bucky shifts on the couch. That should make him feel better, he knows. But it doesn’t, even when he makes his breathing level and slow. “I don’t want to mess any other kids up. I know I’m not supposed to feel dirty or broken, but sometimes I _do_ even when I try really hard not to. Real authors aren’t like that.”

Miriam’s holding his hand again. “That may be how you feel, Bucky, but it’s not true. And I don’t just mean about feeling dirty. There are plenty of children’s authors who were abused or struggle with mental illness.”

Bucky peeks over the top of his bear’s head. “There are?”

“JK Rowling has spoken about her experiences with depression,” Miriam offers.

Bucky didn’t know that. Some parts of the Harry Potter books were really scary, and the dementors did sound a lot like how it feels when Bucky can’t stop being sad and worrying, but he’s never heard anybody say that the books are bad because JK Rowling was depressed. He knows some people think they’re demonic, but he’s never even heard about the depression.

“Beatrix Potter also struggled with depression,” Cornelius says.

Bucky’s mother used to read her books to Bucky and his sisters when he was little.

But Beatrix Potter and JK Rowling didn’t have trials that the whole world watched where everybody talked about how sick they were and all the bad things they’d been through. “I’m scared.” Bucky’s voice is so small; he’s not sure anybody but Bucky Bear can hear it.

But Cornelius says “Of what, James?” so they must have.

“People say I’m a murderer.” Bucky thinks of the comments he’d seen about himself when he used Rumlow’s computer, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. “And that I’m gross and a liar and I shouldn’t be alive. And if I write about the stuff that happened to me, or if I write _at all_ , they’ll say I’m hurting kids. That I want to mess everybody else up too.”

“We can’t promise that people won’t say that.” Miriam gives his hand a squeeze before she lets go. “But we can promise to work with you to make a book that’s appropriate for children. I work with kids every day, Bucky. They’re capable of processing much more information than adults think without suffering as a result, as long as that information is presented in the right manner.”

Cornelius nods. “There will always be critics. People who don’t understand what you went through. But you could write a book that doesn’t even hint at your experiences and people would still find a way to make it objectionable.”

“You know Shel Silverstein?” Miriam asks. “The poet?”

“Uh-huh. Bruce reads me his stuff sometimes.” Bucky’s favorite is the one about the pencil eraser.

“Some of his books were banned from schools,” Miriam tells him. “Adults were concerned that they promoted violence and disrespectfulness.”

Bucky stares at her. “What?”

“So no matter what,” Cornelius says, “there will always be someone who complains. What you need to ask yourself, James, is if these are stories that you feel ready to tell. You’ll be in the spotlight again, and you’ll need to be sure that’s a step you’re ready to take.”

“It doesn’t have to be right now,” Miriam adds. “You can take all the time you need. And for what it’s worth, Bucky, I believe that when you’re ready to tell your stories, they’ll do a lot of good.”

Bucky stares down at his lap where Bucky Bear is sitting, but he doesn’t see the bear. He’s thinking back to San Diego when he met his family at the zoo. When his great-nephew’s wife, Sara, had caught him alone.

_You have no idea how important you are,_ Sara had said. She’d hugged him so tight.

Bucky had been able to get Tony to make a prosthetic leg for his great-great niece Laura. He’d helped her.

Maybe the books could help Sara. Or other people like her. Maybe he really wouldn’t make things worse, no matter what other people said.

“I think I’m ready to try,” Bucky says, and they end the session early to let him.

*

Bucky deletes the words at the top of the document. _Once upon a time_ vanishes, and Bucky replaces the text with a title:

_The Bearvengers and the Lost Bear_

He takes a deep breath. There’s a glass of water on the desk and Bucky takes a sip from it. Then he squeezes Bucky Bear’s foot, breathes again, and begins to type.

_Everybody knows Captain Ameribear: the hero of the Second Honeycomb War, the first Bearvenger, the bear on all the bonds posters. But before Ameribear carried a shield, he lived in a small apartment in Bearlyn. Back then, Ameribear was small too. His apartment was cold and damp and he often got sick. Ameribear didn’t have a lot in those days. He had a sketchbook and pencils and a best friend named Bucky Bear…_

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Anna Nalick song "[Breathe (2 AM)](http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1lh3ww)." For some bizarre reason, I couldn't find this music video anywhere on Youtube, and the video for the song wasn't even mentioned on the song's Wikipedia article. I was starting to think I'd hallucinated it.
> 
> The Winter ducklings watching Killerdozer is a reference to the previous fic, _[With the Bears.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11505567)_ Rumlow's affinity for _Road House_ comes from another of my stories, [_The Single Finest American Film_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2746523).
> 
> Bucky Bear's potential bearly ache is a reference to the APSHDS spin-off fic, [_GII.4_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8087227/chapters/18531793) by [OMOWatcher](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OMOWatcher/pseuds/OMOWatcher).
> 
> The children's books that Bucky lists are all real:
> 
> _[A Terrible Thing Happened](https://www.amazon.com/Terrible-Thing-Happened-Margaret-Holmes/dp/1557987017)_ , a book about trauma  
>  _[The Princess and the Fog](https://www.amazon.com/Princess-Fog-Story-Children-Depression/dp/1849056552/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1506792474)_ , a book about depression  
> [ _Meh_](https://www.amazon.com/Meh-Story-Depression-Deborah-Malcolm/dp/163411003X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1506792567), another book about depression  
> [ _I Said No!_](https://www.amazon.com/Said-Guide-Keeping-Private-Parts/dp/1878076493/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1506792606), a book about bodily autonomy  
> [ _It’s My Body_](https://www.amazon.com/Its-Body-Uncomfortable-Childrens-prevention/dp/0943990033/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1506792663), another book about bodily autonomy  
>  _[A Boy and a Bear](https://www.amazon.com/Boy-Bear-Childrens-Relaxation-Book/dp/1886941076/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1506792756)_ , a book about relaxation
> 
> Check out these awesome APSHDS-inspired fics:
> 
> [_A Matter of Penguins_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12168531/chapters/27618972) by [Jersey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jersey/pseuds/Jersey)  
> [ _(Podfic) Love Is for Children_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12154344) by [Eleke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleke/pseuds/Eleke)
> 
> Come say hello on [Tumblr](http://lauralot89.tumblr.com/)!


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